


Hard to see this time of night

by sahina



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Rita is a Good Friend (Penumbra Podcast), i love that it's a tag bc she really is, juno trying to deal with benten's death and failing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 14:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19465783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sahina/pseuds/sahina
Summary: There isn’t a day Juno doesn’t think about Benzaiten Steel.





	Hard to see this time of night

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sitting in my drafts forever now so i figured it was time to finally post it! title taken from bambi by hippo campus. please check it out, it's such a juno song

There isn’t a day Juno wakes up and doesn’t feel guilty. Sometimes he’s angry, at himself and at the world, so furious that it scares him to think about what he’s capable of if that anger got out; and sometimes he’s sad, like there is a hole in his chest where his heart is supposed to be that swallows all other emotion besides the overwhelming guilt that tears at him.

There isn’t a day Juno doesn’t think about Benzaiten Steel. How it should have been him instead and how goddamn much he misses his brother.

He wakes up slowly, like he’s been asleep for days upon days and has to restart every part of his body before he can fully wake, and he certainly feels like it too. His exhaustion runs deep into his bones and seeps into his soul. Forcing his sore eyes open he immediately closes them again against the bright rays of the sun peeking through half-drawn curtains. He lays a heavy hand over his eyes, sighs, and eventually makes it out of bed.

His head feels like lead and his mouth tastes nasty. He’d been spending his last three evenings at the local bar, staring down bottles at his sorry reflection. Contemplating whether to just leave for the bar right away, despite it not opening for another few hours, he decides that he at least should try to freshen up a little before doing anything. On his way to the bathroom he closes the curtains completely. 

They’re not actual curtains but old sheets he’s draped over a railing he himself fastened above the window in an attempt to mimic the feeling of apartments in old movies from ages ago. He’s always liked how they looked compared to the current designing trends. Benten, despite wholeheartedly disagreeing, would help him deck out his side of their room to imitate the style of whatever movie he was obsessed with at the time. It was Benten’s idea to reuse their old sheets, the same ones hanging there right now. It makes Juno’s chest ache to think about.

It takes everything not to break down then and there.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, he hates what he sees. The person looking back at him looks worn out; smeared lipstick form the day before, ugly scar that runs across the bridge of his nose, bags under his eyes and wrinkles to accompany them. He looks like a disaster, but worst of all is that he can still see his brother in himself. The same eyes, nose, mouth, _hell_ the only major difference between them is that his face is a little thinner, which only comes from his eating habits or lack thereof.

Sudden anger churns within him. “It’s not fair!” he growls at his reflection, “Why did it have to be you? Why couldn’t it have been me?!”

His fist makes contact with the mirror and the sound of it breaking startles him. Breath trembling, he looks at the mirror and the sight makes his blood run cold. There are tears streaming down his face, features twisted into a grisly expression that he would _never_ catch his brother wearing. He was too good for it.

The thought of that makes the anger subside and be replaced by a deep shame. He pulls his hand away and lets it fall by his side. There’s blood on the mirror and on the sink and it hurts to unclench his hand and he thinks his knees might give out any second and he can’t seem stop crying for the life of him.

His comms in the other room starts ringing and dread starts swelling in his throat. He takes his time getting to it but the caller doesn’t give up. His vision is blurry at best from the tears in his eyes and the throbbing headache pushing behind them, but he thinks he reads _Rita_ on the screen. Part of him wants her to comfort him and part of him wants to continue wallow in grief. The former wins so he answers.

“Mr. Steel?” she says cautiously when he doesn’t say anything.

“Boss?”

“... Juno?”

“Hi,” he eventually croaks out, immediately embarrassed because it’s obvious he’s been crying. He almost hangs up, but he can’t. Not when Rita lowers her voice to say his first name like it’s something reserved for the moment.

“I was just calling to check in, to hear how you’re doing,” she pauses. “but you’re not doing so good right now, are you, boss? You never answer when I call you around this time of year.”

Juno feels so ashamed. He just now realizes how disappearing like that must have made her feel. “Rita, I... “ he takes a shaky breath. “No. I’m not.”

They’re both silent for a few beats before Rita speaks up. “Do you want me to come over?”

“... Yes.”

“I’ll be right there, boss.” she sounds as tired as Juno feels, which makes him feel awful for making her come and take care of him and his mess of a life. Before he can say something more she hangs up.

He clutches his comms so tight against his chest. He has no idea what he would do without her.


End file.
